Just Another Game
by Dorkling
Summary: Morgan loved setting traps, especially on Ylisse's Exalt, however it was only a matter of time before this habit went a bit awry.


**Just Another Game**

Morgan always loved playing pranks, well maybe not always, but it was definitely high on his list of fun things to do. He never fancied himself a comedian or whatnot, he sort of saw it as an extension of his passion for tactics, trying to predict how his unwitting opponent would act and planning accordingly. It was one of the first principles his mother taught him, getting into your enemy's head, one of the very few answers Morgan had for the hundreds of questions he wished he could ask. That and, his usual justification, he figured that Ylisse's Exalt could use a few lessons on tactics as well as swordplay.

"Morgan." Lucina said with a most unamused frown on her face.

"Aw, how did you know, sis?" Morgan beamed as he came out of his hiding spot.

"Lucky guess." Lucina muttered through clenched teeth, still maintaining her irritated glare on her jubilant little brother.

Morgan took the hint and set to carefully untying the knot tied around one of the legs of Lucina's bed and lowering his older sibling back onto the ground. It was a pain to set up that pulley on the bedchamber's ceiling, especially since Morgan only had fifteen minutes to put it up after his sparring session with Lucina, but seeing the unflappable Exalt flipped upside down and losing all composure in the process was worth it. Albeit, the beating he was likely about to receive would put that deduction to the test, unless he ran fast enough.

"GET BACK HERE AND FACE THE CONSEQUENCES OF YOUR ACTIONS!" Lucina's voice echoed through the halls of the castle along with the sound of the royal siblings' feet pounding against the stone floors.

Morgan would have laughed if he had any breath to do so, he quickly realized the fatal flaw in planning his attack after training. While it had the benefit of a tired out Lucina being unable to notice or react quickly enough to the rope at her feet, it had the serious drawback of a tired out Morgan lacking the sufficient stamina to run away to the nearest room and bar the door before his sister caught up to him. He made a vow to accommodate these thoughts well in advance as he felt Lucina's weight pounce onto him like a tiger or wolf leaping upon it's prey for the killing blow. What ensued could be called a 'fight,' given the near-murderous intent of one individual and the desperation to get away from the other, but to any outside observer it was the typical scrap one would find between two siblings that left more bruises than broken bones or torn flesh. Eventually the two broke up and found themselves sitting next to each other in the hallway, lying their backs against the wall just under one of the castle's many ornamental shields. After a few minutes of awkward silence between the two, save their heaving breaths, Morgan tried to break the tension with some mirth.

"Well, that was fun. We should do it again sometime." Morgan had to wait a few moments for his sister to collect herself.

"No." Lucina said with finality. "Let's not do that again."

"Oh, c'mon Lucy." Morgan whined. "I think this is the only thing we've done outside of training, managing this kingdom and fighting the Risen in… Months!"

"I am the Exalt, Morgan." Lucina stated flatly. "You know the duties I have, that we both have, we can't afford silliness in times like these."

"Fine…" Morgan relented with a sigh, shifting his gaze away from Lucina's scolding eyes.

Again, another awkward pause filled the space between the royalty of Ylisse before a creeping feeling filled up Morgan's gut, he looked back to Lucina and recognized the forlorn look in her eyes. The prince of Ylisse sighed knowingly before shifting his body a little closer to the princess-Exalt.

"What is it?" Morgan asked flatly.

"What?" Lucina broke out of her trance.

"You have that 'I am taking something too seriously and am going to angst over it' look on your face." Morgan said with a teasing smile.

"I- am I that easy to read?" Concern overcoming the Exalt that tried to maintain an image of stoicism amongst friends and allies, to be the rock her people could cling to as they hanged over the abyss.

"No, you're usually pretty good at keeping things to yourself." Morgan said, knowing how much his sister disliked the idea of having any obvious weakness. "It's just that anyone who knows you, friends and family for example, know that look when they see it."

"I see…" Lucina narrowed her eyes in reflection.

"Oh, great…" Morgan muttered to himself, if his sister put even more conscious effort into her stone-faced visage she would be Gods-damn unreadable, a trait that made things difficult for people who cared for her well-being.

"What was that?" Lucina's attention was put back on Morgan.

"I- look, it was nothing." Morgan sputtered before returning to the initial topic. "Now, tell me, what's on your mind?"

"I just-" Lucina sighed, she figured there was no point in trying to hide anything from her brother and tactician, she knew his curiosity on the matter would overcome him and likely distract him from more important things. "I am wondering, what would I have been able to do if you were an assassin?"

"Okay." Morgan grimaced at the thought. "That's a bit morbid. Don't you think?"

"I know…" Now it was Lucina's turn to look away from Morgan's face. "I just- I'm not afraid to die, I'm just afraid of what may come after. The blood of the first Exalt has been thinned as of late and, with the Fell Dragon's grip tightening around the world- I…"

"Woah, slow down." Morgan frowned, Lucina's words just as upsetting to him as they were to her. "It was just a prank, not an assassination attempt, a prank from your little brother, your genius little brother."

"Heh." Lucina grinned at the mirth in Morgan's last few words, much to his approval. "I suppose you have a point. Forgive me, I read a little too much into it."

Morgan smiled contently, all in a day's work for the Exalt's little brother. Of course, his clever mind did not stop thinking up ideas, and a particularly good one popped into his head as the siblings rose up to their feet.

"Say…" Morgan said with an expression that mixed playful mischief and malevolent cunning together. "If it would make you feel better, maybe I could train you how to deal with assassins."

"Truly?" Lucina rose an eyebrow in intrigue. "How would we go about this training?"

"Simple, if you can get out of my traps, it would take an army of assassins to get you!" Morgan declared, confidence radiating from his smile. "Unfortunately, I have recently been ordered by royal decree that I cannot engage in any more trap-making, but if someone could revoke it…"

Lucina just stared blankly at her little brother for a moment and a half, processing his offer, Morgan's smile faded as he figured that maybe offering to throw a slurry of more pranks at her after a heart-to-heart moment may have been a bit uncalled for. Those worries quickly evaporated as a Lucina's mouth shifted into a small grin of approval, which was all the confirmation Morgan needed as he beamed while his mind went wild with all the scenarios playing through his head. Not a single word was needed to part between the two as the princess walked back to her bedchambers to rest for the next day while the prince walked back to his to plan for the next time circumstance would allow him to play another trick on his sister.

* * *

That feeling buzzed in Lucina's stomach again, her hand paused for a moment on the door handle before she opened the door with the caution of a little mouse that knew the eyes of a predator were set upon it. She looked at the ground and saw the tied rope put plainly on the ground in front of the door. However, as previous incidents had proven before, Morgan was very good at setting up red herrings. Lucina examined as much of the room as possible, trying to find the thing the rope was supposed to distract her from. Then she heard the rattle of metal right above and instinct took over completely. The princess dove into her own bedchambers, as if they were a battlefield, sword drawn in battle stance and eyes alert for any oncoming foe. She spun on step, facing the door just in time to see a bucket pass through the air where her head was and clatter onto the floor. She heard a sound come from behind her, the bucket was a secondary distraction to put her in this very spot! In a blur of movement, Lucina turned and thrust her blade into the oncoming object, a gelatinous liquid from within carrying on the momentum and bursting from the hole she had made. Lucina jumped to the side, grimacing as she landed on her ribs, but sprawling back to her feet regardless. The Exalt of Ylisse furrowed her brow as she examined the material she had narrowly avoided now spilled on the ground. By the blackness and viscosity of the liquid, Lucina figured it was some kind of tar. That was when she realized that this was the part where the feathers came in! She felt several gusts, likely the result of Morgan playing around with wind magic, throw her somewhat off balance as a flurry of pillows rode on the bursts of air towards her. The princess did not flinch in the face of the foes flying upon her as she regained her footing, the mythic blade of her ancestors at the ready to strike them down to Hell itself (her inner voice was starting to sound a bit like her cousin). In a chaotic flurry of strikes and sidesteps, Lucina cut down every feather-filled sack launched upon her. Another strong current of air blew against her, Lucina maintaining her footing this time, and with it another assault of pillows. The process repeated for a good minute or two until the chosen warrior of Flachion found herself standing in front of the door once more, the ground beneath her covered in the feathers of many a vanquished pillow.

"Is that all, Morgan?" Lucina taunted, although maintaining her usually cool demeanor.

At that, the mastermind revealed himself, crawling out from underneath Lucina's bed, like a demon emerging from the blackest pits.

"Great job, sis." Morgan said with a chuckle. "You've improved a lot from last time."

Despite trying to hang her from the ceiling, smash a bucket on her head and cover her in tar and feathers, Lucina could not help but smile at her little brother's compliments.

"I have a good teacher." She said matter-of-factly as she sheathed Falchion. "Although, I do wonder if he will ever teach me where he finds the time to do…" Lucina gestured to the mess that had been made all over here room. "This."

"Magic helps." Morgan gestured to the Elwind tome he produced from his robes. "I've been taking a few lessons from Laurent, albeit for completely different applications, but thinking outside of the box is what a tactician does."

"I assumed as much." Lucina stated. "Well, shall we get to cleaning this up before the servants throw a fit?"

"After we pull you out of that mess, sure." Morgan said plainly.

"What?" Lucina's expression changed from her grin of relief to a frown of concern.

"Your feet." Morgan pointed down.

Lucina looked down towards the feather-covered floor under her feet, was Morgan just making some kind of joke towards the mess the pillows made? That was when she caught the glimpse of rope between some of the feathers. In a blur of motion, Lucina felt something coil around her legs and pull her upside-down into the air. She felt Falchion slip out of its scabbard from the force of gravity, as it had many times before in this scenario, and tried to grab it before it hit the ground in the hope that she could cut her bindings with it. The tips of her three fingers wrapped around the pommel and, as before, the sheer weight of the blade pushed her sword out of her meager grip. Once more, Lucina looked to Morgan seeing what looked like a frown, but she knew it was the smug grin that he had rehearsed to a science at this point.

"You've improved so much, yet still have so far to go." Morgan said as he already set to untying the knot around the leg of the bed.

"I would not say that just yet." Lucina said, voice thick with menace.

"Oh, well, yeah, I was just teasing-" That was when Morgan realized how much the rope was vibrating. "Lucina, are you trying to cut the ro- AGH, OHMYGO- !"

Morgan had turned just in time to see that his sister had been shifting her weight, hence the vibrations, just enough to swing her body towards Morgan. Specifically, just enough for the hands of the princess-Exalt to wrap themselves firmly around the prince's neck. Again, it was always small details like these Morgan kept forgetting to calculate into his plans.

"SUBMIT!" Lucina demanded as she choked her brother out.

"W- what?" Morgan whispered between gasps.

"This is assassination training, yes?" Lucina explained. "What is a better method of foiling an assassin's plot than overpowering him once he is within arm's reach?"

Morgan honestly could not argue with that logic, instead he set his mind to figuring out how to prevent Lucina from stealing a victory from him. Which, admittedly, was difficult as the increasing lack of oxygen began to blur his vision and mind. But he was his mother's son, and he knew a thing or two on thinking on his feet, especially since his last hope was the Elwind tome just a few inches away from his feet. Fighting against the blackness encroaching the corners of his sight, Morgan kicked the tome towards his hands and haphazardly opened the book, channeled the magic and loosed a spell in the general direction above himself. However, Lucina had seen his attack coming and shifted her body accordingly to dodge the rushed spell. What neither predicted was the strong gust of wind weakening the supports of the make-shift pulley Morgan had installed above. Fortunately, in a sense, both figured out what was happening when a screw fell and clinked against the ground.

""Oh, damn it."" Was said in almost perfect unison before the pulley gave way and Lucina slammed into Morgan.

And so the royal family of Ylisse, save their cousin, lay in a heap on the ground for a good while, groaning in regret as they processed the pain of one human body tumbling right into another.

"I won." Morgan mumbled groggily.

"No you didn't." Lucina retorted.

"Alright, let's just call it a draw for now."

"Agreed."

"GOOD GODS, WHAT HAPPENED HERE!?" A servant, who had decided to check in on the Exalt's bed chambers, especially since the increase of ruckus going on in it, screamed in object horror as he gazed upon the Exalt and Prince of Ylisse lying amidst a mess of rope, feathers and tar.

""Assassination training."" Was the agreed answer from the future of the first Exalt's lineage.

* * *

"MORGAN!" Lucina's scream pierced the thick, smoke-filled air.

It had finally happened, the Risen had breached the walls of Ylisstol and flooded into every nook and cranny within the city, including the royal castle. Yet, the city had not fallen yet, its princess and, hopefully, its prince fought on against the horde. The pair had divvied up command of the defenses, Lucina had taken to the streets to rally whoever was willing and able to pick up a blade while Morgan, much to his own chagrin, remained in the castle to command what was left of the defenders on the walls to prevent any more breaches. The plan seemed to have been faring well, of the two breaches made in the walls so far, one had been successfully barricaded and a push was being made for the second. That was when Lucina saw the smoke billowing from the castle, she immediately left command of the offensive to her subordinates and rode out with a handful of retainers to the one place where she was certain her brother would have been safe. Evidently, the hordes of Risen she had sloughed through contradicted that assumption, she scattered her retainers all across the castle to help whatever was left of the guard retake the throne of the Exalt. The hallway Lucina had ran into was relatively quiet, given the echoes of battle and slaughter that echoed through the walls, floor and ceiling. It was in this silence that Lucina realized that the place where she had taken her first steps was now the scene of the grisly images that freshly stewed in her mind. The blood and bodies of soldiers and servants, a number of them people she had known since those first steps, displayed alongside the burned and torn heraldry of her country. But now was not the time for such melancholy, it was useless here, these monsters were burning her home, killing her people and threatening her family. The princess focused on the fire rising in her belly, jaw clenching and grip around the hilt of Falchion tightening as she did so, she swore that every Risen that thoughtlessly stepped into this castle would be taught what fear was like if she saw them. As she ran through hallway, intent on visiting her fury to the nearest battle she could hear, a sound, muffled but distinct, pierced the din of war that permeated the sweltering castle. If it had been a cry from anyone else, there was a chance Lucina would never have heard it, but it was a noise she had become attuned to ever since her father told her what it meant to be a big sister; it was her little brother calling for help.

It was so much like Morgan's usual pranks, him hiding under the bed, Lucina fresh from a fight unwittingly approaching her room's door and his heart pounding through his chest against the floor. The only difference was very simple, he was hoping beyond all hope that he would not be the victor today. The familiar creak of the bedchamber door filled Morgan's ears and with it the coldest sense of dread filled his veins. Lucina was not as surprised as she should have been to see a pack of Risen just huddled in her chambers, her brother was in danger her mind was set on solving that issue first. She ducked beneath the axe swinging from beside the doorway, and in a counter-stroke split the monstrous humanoid that swung it in half along it's waist. She saw the glowing runes of magic being cast ahead of her and rolled into the chamber proper before a fireball scorched the ground she stood on mere moments ago. The exalt wasted no time in charging the undead mage across the room and impaling it with her blade, preferring to pull the blade upward instead of pulling it out to split the creature's head in half for good measure. The undead were, if anything, very reluctant to go back being dead. Lucina shifted herself to put her back against the wall and her face towards the rest of the room, she was met with the sight of two more Risen. One was a knight clad in thick plate and a shield that rivalled the bulwarks of the very castle it stood in, the other an archer bow drawn and sight on the blue-clad princess wisely keeping behind it's armoured ally. Lucina barely had enough time to dodge the incoming arrow and even less to focus on the spear thrust from the moaning knight. Instead Lucina shifted herself just enough to take an arrow to the shoulder, instead of her targeted heart, and swung her sword against the spear diving for her gut. She managed to knock the spear just enough off course to side step to the knight's side that lacked the shield's protection and thrust her sword into a gap in the shoulder armour, digging Falchion's enchanted edge into the neck of the beast. Before the Risen could even mutter it's death groan, Lucina withdrew her blade and dived to her side just before she heard the anticipated twang of the last Risen's bow, feeling the air shift against her face as the arrow missed its mark by less than an inch. Lucina regained her footing and leapt towards the last foe in the room, whether in whatever form of desperation or fear a Risen could feel or a simple, soulless drive to see the chosen bloodline of Naga snuffed out, the last Risen rushed a final shot into Lucina's right thigh. It did not stop her. Lucina already set herself to wiping her blade clean of whatever ichor was left on it as the former archer returned to the land of the dead, it's head rolled along the floor before evaporating in a sickening dark purple smoke, like the rest of it's wretched kin.

"Morgan?" Lucina said in soft concern. "Where are you?"

Trembling, not in fear for himself but for his sister, Morgan crawled out from his usual hiding spot for possibly the last time in his life.

"You have to get out of here." Morgan said flatly as his sister walked up to him.

"Don't worry." Lucina said with a reassuring smile, how it pained Morgan to see so much compassion from someone in danger because of him, let alone his sister.

"No, get o- out of this room- I-" Morgan covered his face partially out of shame, partially out of fear, but mostly to ease the throbbing and burning in his eyes. "I've killed so many, Lucina, I let the Risen breach the castle."

Now Lucina was somewhat concerned, as Morgan wanted her to be, she knew her little brother dealt with the cost of war much as she did, every life was their responsibility, both saved and lost. They leaned on each other many times before, but she could not recall a time where one of them broke down in the midst of a battle, something was wrong. However, what little success Morgan felt as he gazed at his sister's perplexed face dissolved as she walked even closer, pressing her hands firmly against Morgan's shoulders.

"Morgan, this isn't the time for that. We can worry about the dead later, now we need to focus on saving the livin-" Lucina stopped in a gasp of pain as she felt something prod into her ribs, and cut right through into her flesh.

Dumbfounded eyes were cast down towards the image of a dagger, held by the hand of a brother, pressed firmly into the gut, mostly the right side, of a sister. Those eyes shot back up, misty with tears brought up from a mixture of pain, shock and disbelief, staring into the despairing face of that same brother. In that moment, everything made sense and at the same time no sense. There were Risen in the castle, the castle whose defences were under the command of the man who was now stabbing the princess of it. There were Risen waiting for the princess in her bed chambers, the same chambers where the aforementioned man set dozens of traps for her beforehand. It explained everything, save one detail that pressed Lucina's heart in a cold vice, that man was the princess's little brother. She was pulled back into reality from the feeling of blood-soaked metal sliding out of her gut, pure instinct saving her from a second stabbing as the hands pressed against Morgan's shoulders in what was supposed to be a loving embrace now pushed him as far away as possible. Lucina realized that she had dropped Falchion in her horror and bent down to retrieve it, grunting against the burning pain in her gut as she did so. One hand clutching Flachion's hilt and the other pressed against her wound, she slowly rose back to her feet, trying her best to not hunch over in the pain and sea of emotion engulfing her. While he could not relate to any physical pain, Morgan's mind was likely just as distressed as his sister's as he gazed upon the only person that he could count on to stand by him ever since their parents died bearing a crimson stain from her gut down her right leg because of the dagger he pierced her with. He wanted to say sorry, yearned to scream apologies loud enough for the heavens to hear, but they could not undo what he had just done. He was trying to kill his sister and, judging by how her blade shook in her grip, his heart sunk at the increasing possibility of success. There was a strange pause between the two, a sword tied to the blood of Naga and a dagger drenched in the blood of Naga between them, before it was broken with a sister's plea to her brother.

"Why?" Lucina gasped, heaving to hold back the cries.

"… Because mother said so." Morgan answered cryptically, hoping Lucina would just think him mad or possessed than pry into the cruel truth of the matter. That they were carried into this world by the wings of despair, the breath of ruin breathed life into them. "Because you're too much like father, you just can't see the darkness even when it's right in front of you, why you can't even hear it's whispers. That's why the sword chose you, I think."

Lucina could only shake her head, now everything was making less and less sense, her head felt light, her mind was clouded, her body shivered in a cold that crept over her body, her vision blurred every other moment. Maybe it was all the blood she was losing, the tears in her eyes, or the simple disbelief in what was happening right in front of her. Maybe that was it, maybe this was just some horrible nightmare, maybe Lucina died in the streets of Ylisstol against the Risen and this was some twisted punishment from the Gods for her failure in saving her people; anything was better than the reality put before her. Yet, as Lucina heard her brother's footsteps against the floor as he approached her with complete clarity, as she saw the cold intent in his eyes in contradiction to the warm tears pouring from them, blood-painted dagger brandished for the killing strike, she realized that this was actually happening. Her own brother was going to kill her.

"Stop, Morgan…" Lucina stepped backward as Morgan advanced. "Just stop. I can forgive this, I can forgive you, just put the dagger down…"

"There's only one way I can stop." Morgan replied coldly. "You know how, we practiced for it, remember? I'm the assassin, you're my target."

Lucina grimaced at her brother's comparison of this to an excuse to spend time together, a childish game! It was not practice to kill her brother, it was not training for Morgan to kill his sister; yet, still, here they both were, struggling against each other in a scenario that Lucina truly wished was some cruel trick being played on her from her brother. Then Lucina felt the cold wall against her back and everything became so much worse. She glanced to her room's door, finding it had been closed either from Morgan or one of the Risen during the fight, she was trapped, Morgan still advancing towards her, Falchion still shaking in her spare hand, blood still dribbling between the fingers of her other hand.

"I can't…" Lucina whimpered, pleaded even. "I can't kill you, what kind of Exalt would I be if I killed my little brother!?"

Morgan did not answer, he simply continued to shuffle forward, whatever strength he had left to save his sister spent on his previous warnings.

"Answer me, Morgan!" Lucina screamed, tears finally pouring down her cheeks after painfully welling in her eyes for the ordeal. "I won't- I… I can't…" Just like her brother, she lost any will she had left to speak any more pleading words.

Neither Morgan or Lucina witnessed the heinous act, they closed their eyes as tightly as they could as their bodies operated on muscle memory. It was a final, desperate hope that was doomed from the start, that none of this was real; that they would open their eyes and themselves back in a world that made sense. Yet, shielding their eyes did not spare them from the reality of the situation, their ears told them the horrid truth with the gut-wrenching sound of a blade driven through flesh, the dripping of the blood of one sibling falling onto the other's feet and the tell-tale gurgle that usually ensued when one's blood filled their lungs. Lucina's and Morgan's grip both faltered, their weapons slipping out of their limp hands; the bloody dagger fell to the ground while Falchion was buried into Morgan's chest. Lucina opened her eyes, to stare at the hand that unmade her own brother before laying her gaze upon the painful sight of Morgan. His eyes were misty, but his body lacked the strength to produce any tears, his legs shook like the pillars of a building long past its time as he struggled to keep himself standing and the blood, oh the blood, poured from his mouth and the sword, his family's sword, embedded into his chest. Morgan tried to say something, his muscles and bones burning and racked with spasms as he struggled to keep himself standing, as he tried to reassure his sister that everything was alright, after she had stuck a sword through her own brother. It was in this moment, gazing at each other's blood stained figures, the smell of smoke fouling their nostrils, the cacophony of death and horror echoing from within the walls of the castle and from the city around it, their mouths open and minds screaming but not a sound able to escape their wracked throats, the pair understood the matter at hand. They were perfectly sane, it was the world that had gone mad, but this realization did not offer any reprieve or promise of escape, it simply was the only explanation for what had transpired. Neither of them could speak or move in the horror that gripped them for the few sparse moments before Morgan's wound finally force him to fall into a heap.

"Morgan." Lucina whimpered like a terrified child as she fell to her knees and crawled over to her brother's side.

Morgan tried to respond, but his words were lost in the copper fluid that filled his lungs and throat, his vision trembled with terror as he came to the conclusion that this would be the last time he could see his sister and he was unable to even give her any parting words. Lucina heard her brother's struggle to speak something, anything, but to no avail, each gurgle and unintelligible whisper cutting into her soul like a razor. She simply could not stand to see Morgan struggle so hard simply to say goodbye, a person so driven to live up to the legacy of his mother and all of that drive being rendered useless. Without any words, the princess of Ylisse simply picked up her brother's dying body from the ground and held it close to hers. She had no idea what to do exactly, but every fiber of her being screamed that she do something for the man drowning in his own blood on the floor of her bedchambers, the sounds reminding her of the time she strangled him naught but a few months ago. She immediately regretted ever doing that, if only because it tainted that thought forever with the sight of her wild-eyed brother sputtering out scarlet fluid between ragged excuses for breaths.

"It's okay, Morgan." Lucina tried to console her brother, but her words of kindness merely motivated him to try harder, to repay each syllable with an apology for what had transpired and a more complete explanation for why it happened. "Please, don't push yourself. I…"

Lucina's voice trailed away, she could not find any words that could help him, eventually, Morgan surrendered as well to his sealed fate and weakly wrapped his twitching arms around his sister. Neither knew how much time passed before they broke their embrace, nor did either approve of doing so, Morgan saw that Lucina was starting to tremble like him as well, blood still seeping from her wound, and Lucina saw that Morgan had become unnaturally pale as he approached the door of death. After sharing a forlorn look into each other, Lucina shifted her gaze upon the hilt of her blade and began to move a shaking hand towards it to pull it out, there was no need to prolong her brother's painful exit from the world. However, as usual, Morgan had other ideas, a quaking hand placed on Lucina's to get her to stop her action. She looked at her brother's face, confused, but it faded as she followed his gaze to a pouch that looked like it belonged to Morgan that was knocked off his person in their struggle. Morgan managed to force a smile as his sister rushed towards it and produced a vulnary from it's contents. However, that smile faded into a frown as he shook his head when Lucina rushed over back to him, likely planning to use the vulnary to save him. Before Lucina could even ask, Morgan simply pointed to the sea of red on Lucina's blue garments, she really was too much like her father, so eager and able to save others with little idea on how to save themselves. Lucina opened her mouth to protest, but the objection died in her throat, she grimaced in acceptance of her brother's choice. Ylisse needed it's Exalt, it could spare it's tactician, something Lucina wanted to object so much, to strike it down like the monstrous thing it was, but facts were one of the few things that were beyond even Falchion's edge. Lucina applied the vulnary to her wound, Morgan's worries finally sunk away, although he could barely muster the effort to make a smile to reflect it. Lucina's fingers began wrapping around Falchion, neither sibling breaking eye contact, they could not share any last words, but they could at least see each other off. Lucina swiftly pulled the reddened blade out of her brother with as much haste as she could manage, Morgan winced at the sound of metal sliding out of meat that briefly filled the air. The darkness that taunted him with its slow encompassing of his vision now mercifully sped up its pace, now Morgan tried to force one last smile out, he refused to have this last moment with his sister be an unhappy one. Lucina tried her best to return the gesture, an uneven and messy excuse of a grin forced itself into existence on her face as she watched the life slowly sink away from Morgan's eyes. Morgan figured that would have to do, his sister was far from an expert on how to smile, his thoughts becoming more mirthful and smile more genuine as his vision faded to blackness and all he had left was a few sparse seconds to gaze upon mental images of his past. He saw father's face, heard mother's voice and felt his sister's embrace, although he could not tell if that was a memory or something that was happening in reality, he figured it was likely both before he found himself unable to process another thought.

"I'll miss you, Morgan." Lucina whispered as she broke her embrace and placed her brother back on the ground.

The Exalt turned to the sounds of battle just behind the door to her room, the fighting must have begun not long ago, picking up Falchion with little forethought, and walked with heavy purpose behind each step towards it. In a blur, Lucina opened the door and dived into the fray, with nothing short of murder on her face, nothing short of pure wrath behind every swing of her blade and nothing short of vengeance in her thoughts as she swore to the Gods that she would slay the Fell Dragon for what it did to her brother. Somewhere, in darkened skies above the ruin of the world, the malevolent dragon could not help but laugh at the irony of such fury one could direct towards the one that bore her and somewhere, within the inky soul of that beast, a mother could not help but weep.


End file.
